The Tragic Story of a Blazing Dawn and the Fang of a Butterfly
by Sky 'N Scribbles
Summary: In the end, all they wanted was revenge. It consumed them, pushing them on their paths. She looked up, furrowing her brow. Is this the result of so much hate manifested after so many moons? Will ThunderClan ever recover from the tragic story of a blazing dawn and the fang of a butterfly? T for gore.


**This is sort of like a prompt courtesty of Nikonkey, but 'm not sure if she really intended for me to write this...oh well. Anyway, this mainly features two antagonists from my Power of Seven series, giving background information and whatnot, if you couldn't tell from the insanely long title. I guess this could be read as a seperate entity, but I guess reading my other series makes it...complete. **

**Dedicated to: Nikonkey, one of my reviewers and fans of Blazingdawn XD**

**Disclaimer: In the light such a tragic event, I must say that not owning Warriors doesn't seem that bad anymore.**

* * *

She was nothing.

They had told her that. They had scorned her. They hated her for taking away their brave, strong, reliable leader. Her, and her sister.

_"This kit will be named Blazingkit, due to the color of her ginger pelt." _Was her mother's breathy whisper as her life force seeped away from her. She remembered mewing for milk, but her pleas went unnoticed by every single cat there.

_"The other will be called Butterflykit, because of the fluttering butterflies that appear to be~" _her mother was abruptly interrupted by a hacking cough, then continued, gasping, _"to be spiraling on her pelt." _

She remembered the cries of anguish from her father, and the desertion of the two weak kits. Had a kindly queen not taken them in, both her sister and herself would've surely died.

She remembered the hatred of her father's voice. "These kits are no longer mine. Do what you wish with them."

She remembered the laughs of the sadistic and barbaric cats as they slashed their claws through their soaking bristles of fur, and the warm blood welling up.

She remembered the medicine cat reluctantly patching them up with cobwebs.

She remembered that she hated them. She hated them all.

She was Blazingpaw. She was eight moons old. And she was going to kill every cat in her Clan.

* * *

Her sister had goals, she knew.

Goals that weren't entirely pleasant.

But she couldn't care less, for she felt the same way. She remembered her amazement at the first time she was wounded, only a few minutes old. The beautiful scarlet staining her dappled pelt. She had loved it. The blood.

And she wanted to see more.

Herself, her sister, the kind queen, their genetic father, she wanted to she _any cat's _blood. As long as there was. She loved the taste of it. She loved the smell of it. She loved the feel of it. She loved just about everything about it.

And her sister's plans.

She was going to help her.

Because nothing mattered to her more than seeing the crimson liquid. And her sister's plans had lots of them, in the process of it. Her pelt shivered with excitement and anticipation as she merely thought of it.

She would never voice these thoughts to any other cat, for a very well reason, too~they would quite doubt her sanity.

She didn't know if she was sane or not, but even that didn't matter.

Only blood mattered.

Only blood.

* * *

The cat Blazingpaw hated the most was her father. Sparrowstar.

The selfish brown tabby tom would irritate Blazingpaw to no end by putting obvious restrictions on them, such as they were unable to sleep in the apprentices' den, and that they would only have fresh-kill once a day, and even that had to be in ThunderClan's forest, where badgers or foxes could be attracted to the blood.

Or her sister.

Blazingpaw wasn't quite sure if her sister knew that she knew about her obsession with blood, but it was quite obvious. Everytime the bright red liquid would drip down, her sister would tremble and her eyes would gleam with temptation and hunger. But that didn't bother Blazingpaw. Every cat had their unique traits. Plus, she knew how to use that to her advantage. Quenching the thirst of blood from her sister would be quite impossible, but satisfying it for a while was alright. And destroying ThunderClan altogether (with the exception of the queen that had fed them) would be enough.

It pleased Blazingpaw that her sister looked so delighted at the prospect of so much blood. _"It will be such a delicacy to see ThunderClan, every corner of the territory crimson, and I, standing in the middle of the bloodbath, letting the red stain my pelt." _she had heard her sister murmur beside her in their nest at the very edge of the camp one night.

She shook herself out of her thoughts and concentrated on her mentor, Eaglefeather. That she-cat, too, hated her. Feisty, but weak. The most annoying combination. _I'll take care of her during the massacre, _she thought amusedly. It was actually quite fun, deciding the painful and gory deaths of each cat she hated.

Blazingpaw lifted her paw and quite easily bowled her mentor over. She lightly raked her belly with barely sheathed paws, wanting to kill the she-cat right there and then.

"Good job," Eaglefeather scowled stiffly, trodding back to the camp. Blazingpaw glared behind her. She was too weak. Blazingpaw needed a stronger training partner to get even stronger, because only then would she be able to kill ThunderClan along with her sister.

Only then would she get her revenge.

Revenge on the cats that had tortured them.

* * *

Butterflypaw didn't complain as she followed the bright ginger pelt of her violet-eyed sister. She curled her tail over her paws, looking up obediently at her sister. She dropped her piece of prey, a thrush, and began sharing it with her sister's magpie. The two, oddly, had a fondness for birds.

As she bit into the breast, warm blood flew in her mouth, and she started purring softly. The metallic taste was addicting, as well as the smell and even the liquid texture. For a moment, she forgot her sister was there. All that there was in her world was her, and the blood. She swirled it around in her mouth a few more times before reluctantly gulping it down as it lost it's taste and flavor, then bit into the thrush again. And again. No more blood, to her disappointment. She must've bitten into a major vein for it to be almost completely gone. Sure, a few drops remained here and there, but that was it.

"Do you remember the plan?" her sister spoke up abruptly.

Butterflypaw looked at her sister, her sharp teeth still ripping apart the muscles of the thrush. "Yes."

"We'll do it at the morning of our vigil."

"I know."

"When everyone's asleep and barely realizing what's happening."

"I know."

"It would've been a lot more fun if we slowly picked them off and left them to suspect each other, but those arses would immediately suspect us."

_"I know. _Quit repeating what I already know or else _you _will be my next blood bucket."

"Aw, don't say that! That ain't nice!"

"Our...Sparrowstar has two lives left. You kill one. I'll kill the other." They hated him too much to call him father.

"Deal."

And with that, the sisters stood up and left their spot in the forest.

* * *

"Butterflypaw, you are to be a warrior. Your name is now Butterflyfur." Sparrowstar turned to Blazingpaw, rushing through their ceremony with no traditional words whatsoever. "Blazingpaw, ditto. Your name is now Blazingpelt." he turned away, jumping off the Highrock and walking away, the rest of the Clan dispersing, only the queen who had fed and nursed them congratulating them.

"Like heck we're going to go with these names," Blazingpelt snarled. "I'll abandon this as soon as I rip apart ThunderClan pelts."

Butterflyfur shrugged. "I guess," she murmured. "I don't particularly care. As long as I have blood."

Blazingpelt rolled her eyes. "I was doubting your sanity before, but now I'm absolutely sure that you aren't sane."

"Thank you."

"No problem."

* * *

Blazingpelt stared at the beautiful, rising dawn, the crisp air rushing through her chest and cooling her lungs. The sky was streaked with varying hues of yellow, orange and red, each streak becoming a part of the masterpiece. Butterflyfur had long woken up, their little catnap fueling them with energy to destroy their Clan. It was almost time. Almost.

But before the screaming and the blood flew through the air, Blazingpelt acknowledged that she should always hold a little moment before the battle began, a little something to hold onto if they had died. She had always enjoyed this, whether in wars with the other Clans, or a simple border skirmish where the timing was short but pleasant.

She discarded her -pelt suffix.

She was now Blazingdawn. And like heck anything would stop her. She looked down and examined her sister, pacing impatiently, waiting for the blood to pour as if in rain. Actually, she was sure that her sister would be delighted.

"Butterflyfur," she called softly, as to not wake up their Clanmates and take them from their deaths. "Change your name."

Butterflyfur stared up with her with confusion clear in her eyes. "What do you mean? Why?"

Blazingdawn rolled her eyes. "I accept our prefixes, but our suffix was given by..._Sparrowstar_. Are you honestly going to keep it for the rest of your life?"

Her sister's body became taut, her jaw clenched, and her eyes hardened. Blazingdawn knew how she felt. Everytime someone mentioned Sparrowstar, they had the unsurprising urge to run and kill the stupid smug-face.

"Butterflyfang," her sister mewed suddenly.

Blazingdawn blinked, realizing that she had been caught in her own thoughts. "What?"

"It's Butterflyfang. Fang, because I use them, to sink into flesh, giving me blood."

Blazingdawn rolled her eyes, sighing. Almost everything her sister said had to do with blood.

She stood up, looking at the bluing sky once more. It was beautiful. One day, she hoped to be as beautiful as the dawn, but none too gentle.

She jumped from her perch of gazing at the sky, landing silently and gracefully at the side of her sister. She looked up, the dawn forgotten, her hatred remembered.

"Let's kill," she said simply.

* * *

The crimson blood stained the ground. The air was heavy with death. Butterflyfang and Blazingdawn stood back-to-back, effectively killing any cat that dared lunge at them. Already half of the Clan was dead, a lot of them wiped out from their quiet beginning attack, where they just slit their throats as fast as they could. Blazingdawn's hated former mentor, Eaglefeather, lay motionless as her blood pooled around her. Sparrowstar stood at the back of the circle of cats, nudging bodies out of the way.

Butterflyfang recoiled as an unsheathed paw swiped at her, the former just barely dodging it. She scowled at him before lunging for the cat's neck and snapping it clean, the body crumpling, lifeless and heavy.

Their deputy, Cherrywish, a fighting star in their Clan, feinted to the left, before lunging at Blazingdawn's exposed right, biting deep into her neck and only letting go when Butterflyfang dealt a harsh blow to her cheek, drawing blood and making her stumble back a few steps.

_Were..they always this strong? _Cherrywish thought weakly. _I remember being against the Clan hating them for how their mother died, they never asked to be born, and I planned to change things for them..when I became leader. But is this...the result of so much hate manifested after so much moons? Who do they aim to kill? Or is it ThunderClan entirely, for shutting them out and scorning them? _

She abruptly jumped back, narrowly missing a weak shot from Blazingdawn.

"Damn," Blazingdawn cursed aloud. "At this rate, I'm going to die." Butterflyfang looked over at her sister momentarily, and another cat took advantage and raked their claws deeply in Butterflyfang's own neck. She huffed, even that simple noise now no more than a weak gurgle.

"Okay, let's do what we originally planned to do," Blazingdawn coughed. The two sisters bent their legs, and the other cats tensed, wondering what they were going to do, when, suddenly, they twisted on their paws and lunged for Sparrowstar, the tom not even having time to react before their claws dug deep into him and they both slashed him in half, from his chest right down to the tip of his tail.

The two cats looked triumphant, before their legs wobbled and gave out, their last sight before death being the motionless body of their now deceased father.

Cherrywish watched with sad eyes. _In the end, all they wanted was revenge. It consumed them, pushing them on their paths..._ she looked up, furrowing her brow. And..._will ThunderClan ever recover from this tragedy?_

_Will we recover from the tragic story of a blazing dawn and the fang of a butterfly?_

* * *

**Review! And actually TELL me what you think instead of just "Good job!" -.- **

**-Sky**


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